


Vendetta

by Idk_bro_I_just_like_tea



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Drug Use, Fox Neil Josten, I'll probably tag more as I go on, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Neil is nifty with guns and knives, Past Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Raven Neil Josten, Sex Work, Slow Burn, all the trigger warnings for the foxhole court series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:46:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27780976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idk_bro_I_just_like_tea/pseuds/Idk_bro_I_just_like_tea
Summary: When the Baltimore Butcher kills his beloved wife for the Moriyama family and sells his only son to their elite Exy court, he unintentionally created a blood feud between the Moriyama family and the Hatford family. When Nathaniel escapes Castle Evermore, he not only finds himself on the PSU Foxes team but also in the middle blood feud.
Relationships: Andrew Minyard & Renee Walker, Kevin Day & Andrew Minyard, Kevin Day & Neil Josten, Matt Boyd/Danielle "Dan" Wilds, Neil Josten & The Foxes (All For The Game), Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 13
Kudos: 107





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> All credit goes towards Nora Sakavic for creating the masterpiece that is The Foxhole Court series. Since it's a foxhole court fanfiction, it'll deal with dark themes so I'll throw in a trigger warning whenever I feel like I personally need to, if I don't tw something you think deserves to have a tw let me know in the comments and *daithi de nogla voice* as always, I hope ye enjoy!

"Nathaniel, wake up" Jean hissed, his voice cutting through the hazy fog that settled over his brain, scrambling every coherent thought that tried shifting through his brain. Every inch of his body ached, from his throbbing head to his dehydrated throat that demanded water. His eyes refused to cooperate with him at first, too heavy to open. When he managed to peel them open, the entire world wavered and left him unsettled. He blinked once, twice, before rubbing the sleep and crust out of his eyes with the heel of his hand. It was taking him too long to wake up and with a hollow recollection, he realized he was drugged last night. Jean held out a bottle of water to Nathaniel and he lunged for it, he stopped short when pain flared throughout his entire mid-section of his body and a pathetic gasp fell from his lips as he wrapped his arms around himself, trying to hold himself together. Carefully he put one hand under his shirt that stuck to his body with sweat, slowly placing careful hand on his ribs as he let out even breaths. His ribs weren't broken or cracked, to his relief, maybe bruised but not broken. Jean uncapped the bottled and held it towards Nathaniel, he nodded and allowed Jean to hold the bottle for him as he drank for a few moments before he greedily snatched it and chugged it all down, desperate to quench the thirst that resided in his throat. As he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, the smell invades him and instantly churned his stomach. The smell of urine is intense and he felt his entire body burn with embarrassment as he wondered whether or not he pissed himself. As if reading his thoughts, Jean dumped a plastic bag full of clothes on his lap.

"You have ten minutes" Jean warned lowly as Nathaniel fumbled to open the car door. They were at a filling station, he could see Riko in the store, rifling though some magazines. Jackson and Austin, two upperclassmen, trailing behind him. He found the restroom at the side of the station, he checked the restroom for anyone before locking it. He quickly stripped, trying his best to avoid looking in the mirror and seeing his reflection. He hurriedly grabbed wads of toilet paper and wet them with water before washing himself down, ignoring the way some of the paper stuck to his tender and bruised skin and he dried himself under the hand drier. He quickly slipped on the clothes Jean had handed him, they were massive on him, practically swallowed him whole but it was better than his own piss soaked clothes. He rolled the ends of the sweatpants up and tied the drawstring tightly so they wouldn't slip off him and rolled up the sleeves of the hoodie until he could see his hands. He instantly felt humiliated as he stared at his reflection, he looked ridiculously small in these clothes. Pure hatred coursed through his veins as he continued to stare at himself and he wondered briefly who he hated more, Riko or himself.

With a loud sigh, he slowly started shoving his old clothes and the toilet paper into the plastic bag before throwing it into the waste bin as he made his way towards the door, he unlocked it and stepped outside. He took in a deep breath and allowed his eyes to take in his surroundings, there was a familiarity to the place that caused a spike of panic to appear in his chest, tightening painfully in his chest and his breath quickens.

He can't be here.

"Where are we?" he asked desperation seeping through his voice when he reached Jean, Jean continuously stared into the store front, his weary eyes following Riko as he weaved his way through the store, flicking things off the shelf as he walked by, the upperclassmen trailing behind him, snickering at Riko’s antics which didn’t surprise Nathaniel. Jean eyes flickered towards him, taking in his current state and then looked back at Riko.

"You know where" Jean replied in French tensely and Nathaniel’s chest ached painfully as memories of his mother flashed through his mind in quick succession, followed closely, as always, by his father.

_Baltimore_.

"Why?" he rasped out, sagging against the car, Jean’s eyes flashed with frustration at the slightest sign of weakness and he yanked the car door opened and pushed Nathaniel roughly into the car, heedless of the gasp of pain that escaped from him.

"For your punishment" Jean answered as he climbed in after him and closing the door.

Jean's grey eyes refuse to even look at him, instead they were locked on the glove box and Nathaniel understood, Jean may be too afraid to tell him what's going on but he wasn't afraid enough to not show him. Nathaniel slid into the passenger seat and flung open the glove box. He reached in, ignoring the camcorder and grabbed the gun. He leaned back into the car as he stared down at the gun in his hands, the weight of it felt familiar in his hand and a dark shiver ran down his spine. He clicked the safety on before checking the magazine, counting the bullets before clicking it back into place. This is it, Nathaniel thinks to himself, the crazy fucker is going to finally do it, put me down like the mutt he claims me to be.

For the first time in what felt like years, defiance flickered in him, he’s not going to become another tragic death with suspicious circumstances in Baltimore. He’s not going to die at the hand of a sadist fuck like Riko. His jaw clenched and he climbed back into the back seat of the car before turning to Jean. Jean refused to look back at him, he did all that he can do, he doesn’t owe Nathaniel anything else and Nathaniel feels a weird wave of gratitude wash. He examined the gun, ignoring Jean’s side eye before putting it into his waist band of his tracksuit, hoping that the hoodie will hide it from prying eyes.

“Thank you” he mumbled awkwardly before clearing his throat and looking out the window. As if on cue, Riko strutted out of the store with his flank of upperclassmen. Riko opened the drivers door, grinned manically back at them before throwing a deal meal sandwich at Nathaniel. Nathaniel let it hit off his chest and fall to the floor. Riko’s grin widened, this is what he wanted, Nathaniel thinks bleakly, he wanted a game before he tried to put a bullet through Nathaniel’s head and he just played into his hand like an idiot. Riko’s unnerving gaze flickered to Jean and he whistled and motioned to the passenger seat and like an obedient dog, Jean scampered into it while the upperclassmen climbed in after him, crowding Nathaniel between Austin and the door. Riko turned and stuck the keys into the ignition, he haphazardly tore out of the parking lot causing Austin and Jackson to crush Nathaniel between them and the car, for a brief second Nathaniel held him breath and prayed Austin wouldn’t feel the gun pressing into Nathaniel’s stomach. Luckily enough Austin wasn’t the brightest bunch in the Nest and mistook his panic for fear and smirked at him. They continued the drive in silence, Riko's stony face staring straight ahead as he drove, the other two keeping a watchful eye on Nathaniel. The upperclassmen were the fastest, strongest and cruellest on and off court, they endured enough violence and abuse to know how to survive the Nest. But Nathaniel had years of experience on these idiots, he too could be cruel.

He and his family lived outside the of Baltimore, close enough to the city for business yet not close enough to get caught by authorities. He remembered his old home vividly. He wasn't too surprised when his childhood memories slowly evolved into nightmares. The basement, the cupboard, the bath. Closed fierce fists marking him with bruises, hands tugging and pulling at his hair, skin burned from an iron, cold knives on warm skin. Guns and knives of all variety pressed into his hands firmly, you were meant for this life, they'd whisper to him. As Riko meandered down roads, Nathaniel felt his anger rise, bubbling ugly under his skin. This was his fucking territory, these were his roads, roads he used to play on with the few kids who weren't afraid of Nathaniel because of his shady father, the roads where they played Exy during the scorching summer days, with makeshift goals and little league racquet and soft, sponge balls in the shape of Exy balls so none of them would get hurt during their matches. Their mothers watching cautiously at the side, even then Neil noticed the distance between Mary and the other mothers. And these were his woods, the woods he used to run to and hid from the wrath of his father's anger, he knew every inch of this forest, every tree, every uprooted root that threatened to trip him and low hanging branch that threatened to whip him if he didn't duck low enough. Feeling a smirk spread onto his face, Nathaniel flattened a hand against his mouth, trying to stifle down his father’s ugly and cold smirk that he inherited.

"Be careful, these roads twists and turns a lot" Nathaniel deliberately warned and Riko simply smirked at him. It had the effect he hoped for, Riko hit the accelerator and they shot forward at high speed, his heart rate immediately sky rocketed as Riko took the sharp turns at high speed, faster than anyone had dare to go on this road, just to spite him, the way he spite Riko when he sent Jean to distract him while he snuck Kevin out. He leaned back into the seat, one finger hovering over the release for the seat belt, his other hand curled tightly around the door handle, he took in deep and shallow breathes to calm himself down, to calm his heart which was pounding erratically fast in his chest. The others mistook this as panic, instead it was a plan. As he kept his sharp eyes on the road, watching out for the right moment, he prayed to a God he doesn't believe in, he prayed that he wouldn't snap his neck on impact or that his memory wasn't disorientated from the years spend in the Nest.

And then he saw it, he saw the curve that should cushion his fall with bushes and with the heavy growth of grass and weeds and nettles. The finger hovering over the release slammed down on it with urgency, the click of the release was the only audible sound in the car and Riko's head snapped towards the direction of the sound.

"Wesninski, what are you doing?" Riko's voice commanded sharply as he took the sharp turn. Nathaniel pulled the handle and pushed open the door as hard as he could and with a sharp kick with his feet, the door swung open and quickly got caught by the force of the speed of the car. As did he. His kick alone took him halfway out of the car, Riko made a grab for him, trying to grab a hold of any part of Nathaniel, as he threw the rest of his body out of the car.

He tumbled out of the car, his body hit the hard ground, thorns and nettles tearing and ripping at his skin and bounced back up into the air, he tried his best to twist in the air so that he could take the impact on anything besides his neck and his right arm hit the ground first, he fought off the urge to yelp out in pain and tried to slow himself down by grabbing onto something. His hand wrapped around a nettle and he instantly recoiled as his left hand immediately began to feel like it was on fire. He continued rolling down the slight steep hill and into the woods, when he finally stopped rolling he was winded. He rolled on his side and dragged tight, painfully gasps into his mouth as he desperately trying to catch his breath again. When he finally caught his breath, he sat up slowly, examining the damage. His left hand was full of blisters from the nettles, his side screamed in pain and his tail bone ached. As he reached back and grabbed the gun, he thought perhaps jumping out of a moving car with a gun wedging between his waistband was probably a stupid idea. As he checked over his right arm, his breath hitched. He knew somewhere between the fall and the tumble, his right shoulder popped out of place. The asphalt practically tore his side open, the sight of his blood left his slightly woozy. He sat still for a few seconds and in the thrill of the adrenaline rush, a demented laugh tore through his mouth. Seconds later he gritted his teeth as he lifted up his arms and took off the over-sized hoodie and t-shirt. The vulnerability he felt whenever he was shirtless left him feeling raw and uncomfortable, even now, when he was in the middle of nowhere. His skin felt too tight, it felt like it didn't fit his body properly and he wanted to tug and pull at it until it did. He rolled up the t-shirt quickly, ignoring the flashes of pain that pulsated throughout his right arm. I've been through worse he repeated to himself, over and over again while he tied the rolled up t-shirt into a clumsy attempt of a sling for his shoulder to the best of his abilities before shrugging on the hoodie with great difficulty, grinding his teeth at the hot flash of pain that pulsated through his arm. Riko was going too fast to stop straight away which gave Nathaniel a head start, he heard the screech of tires up ahead of him on the road and he couldn't fight the smirk off his bloodied face. He reached up and grasped onto a low handing branch, ignore his hand that hissed out in pain and pulled himself up onto his feet, he wobbled and every inch of his body ached for him to just lie down and give up. He leaned against a tree, catching his breath before stubbornly marching on. Once his legs stopped feeling like jelly, he broke into a sprint.

There was a trail somewhere to the east of him that should lead him to the Donovan's house. If his memory was correct, Brody Donovan and his family go to the French Alps for skiing every year during the mid term break. Brody Donovan was one of the kids he used to play with when he was younger, he came from a privilege home with two normal, loving parents who adored him and his younger sister. Whenever Nathaniel stopped by his house to see if he was coming out to play, his mother always had ginger snaps made and even though he hated the taste of ginger, he couldn't turn down one because her smile was too warm, too normal even. When he asked his mother to bake something, anything, he received a smack and the cold press of a gun in his hand, a reminder of who and what his family was. He stumbled through the forest, making note of his surroundings as he heading in the direction he hoped was east. It was disorientating. At every sound, his entire body jolted, whenever he heard a twig snap or whenever he brushed passed a branch, his heart leapt into his throat. He couldn't stop in case Riko caught up to him, his adrenaline overpowering his anxiety and his dissociation. His clammy hand pressing against the gun every few minutes, reassuring his maddening mind that he still has it. His certainty wavered after what felt like an hour, he hadn't found the trail yet and doubts plagued his mind, his legs began to quake underneath him. Panic washed over him like a tidal wave and Nathaniel felt like crumbling. He tilted his head back and searched desperately for the sun, what he learned about the sun and directions immediately vanished from his mind and Nathaniel felt his shoulders sag as his eyes burned with tears that threatened to appear. He pushed his body to keep walking and so it did reluctantly.

When the trail came into view, Nathaniel choked back a relieved sob that was building up in his chest. He tried to recall certain things about the Donovan household, whether or not they had security camera, did Brody’s father actually put down his beloved dog when it went to bite his sister but came up short. The Nest had a way of disorientating everything that Nathaniel known to be true, he crept into the back garden and his eyes landed on an old weathered dog house. Cautiously, Nathaniel whistled and when no dog barked in reply or spirited towards him crouched behind a tree. He edged out and spirited up to the backdoor, he put his fist through the window pane of the back door, smearing his blood everywhere, and fumbled around until he felt the lock and twisted. Nathaniel held his breath as he waited for an alarm to go off and pushed his way in when it didn’t. He leaned against the closed door momentarily, listening for any indication that there was someone in the house before examining the damage he did to his hand. With a weary sigh, Nathaniel continued his way into the house, trying to remember the layout as he passed abundance of family pictures lining the wall. He stopped briefly to glance at them, his eyes flitting to one picture to the next, in a series of snapshots Nathaniel could see the family dynamic grow and change – the family close and tight knit, happily oblivious until Brody’s mother stopped appearing in them. Then they appeared stiff and awkward. False. Brody’s usually kind eyes stared angrily out at him in those ones, leaving him feeling uneasy. Nathaniel quickly adverted his eyes and he rushed upstairs to the guest bathroom. He searched the bathroom for an emergency Med kit and almost sobbed in relief at the sight of it wedged between half empty cleaning supplies under the sink. Running his bloodied hand under the water before quickly wrapping his hand in bandages. Nathaniel felt a wave of panic wash over him as he realised he didn’t know what to do with his dislocated shoulder, he heaved in quick breaths and tugged at his hair, trying to centre himself. He never had to do this without Jean there to help. Swallowing back bile, Nathaniel stood straight and grabbed his right arm, pulling it straight and forward before a slight gasp escaped his clenched teeth. He felt his shoulder pop back into place and grabbed a pristine white towel from the towel rack, he hurriedly made a new sling, better than his previous one, with the help of safety pins. Nathaniel quickly washed his bloodied face and dried his face with his t-shirt, refusing to meet his reflection’s eyes. Stumbling out of the bathroom, feeling almost dead on his feet, Nathaniel continued his search of the house. He found Brody’s bedroom in no time. Brody’s room was pristine and neatly kept, it had an air of vacancy to it, as if Brody hadn’t stayed here for a couple of years despite how neat it was. Feeling filthy standing there in his ruined and dirtied clothes, Nathaniel decided to open the closet and pull out a change of clothes. Nathaniel changed out of his ruined clothes and quickly put on the other clothes, he sat down on the plush armchair by a bookcase filled with paperbacks. Feel tired and worn down, he curled up on the chair and closed his eyes.

With a startle, Nathaniel jolted awake. He strained his ears, wondering what woke him from his brief nap, and heard the floorboards downstairs creak. Nathaniel jumped to his feet, heart hammering loudly in his chest and crept out into the hallway. Holding his breath, he peered over the banister before starting his decent down the stairs slowly, hoping that he doesn’t make noise.

“I don’t understand why we had to come here, shouldn’t the alarms alert the police instead” a whiny voice sounded from the living room.

“It’s probably some kids messing around, no point in wasting cops time” a familiar voice replied as someone stepped out into the hallway, with a startle Nathaniel realised it was Brody. Nathaniel pressed himself to he wall, hoping Brody wouldn’t see him as he walked into the kitchen. Nathaniel quickly rushed down the stairs as quietly as possible and tried to make it to the opened front door. From the kitchen he heard a loud swear and loud thumping of quickened footsteps from behind him.

“Eleanor” Brody’s voice hissed quietly and a thin, blonde women appeared from the living room door way. She caught sight of Nathaniel and screamed. Feeling his hope distinguish as he glanced towards the front door as he was thrown back harshly against the wall. Brody’s livid face was too close to his own face and his hand pressed into his throat, crushing his windpipe and Nathaniel grappled at the hand on his throat, digging his nails into the hand. Brody’s eyes widened as recognition washed over his face.

“Nathaniel?” Brody gasped out in surprise, using this distraction, Nathaniel brought his knee to Brody’s crouch and wiggled out of his grip. Using the distraction, Nathaniel stumbled into the kitchen, trying to catch his breath as he grabbed his gun from the counter top. He heard Brody thundering after him, he gripped the gun shakily in his hand and pointed it at the doorway. Brody skidded to a stop at the doorway, the women, Eleanor, stopping behind him and he wearily held up his hands.

“Nathaniel-” Brody started before Nathaniel stopped him with a harsh shut up, Eleanor placed a fluttering hand on Brody’s arm. Brody took a cautious step forward and a shuttering gasp left Nathaniel’s throat as he held up the gun higher, aiming behind Brody’s broad should at Eleanor. Her wide brown eyes stared petrified at the gun and Brody visibly blanched harshly.

“You don’t have to do this” Brody started slowly, his eyes trained on the gun but yet he took another cautious step forward.

“Stay back” Nathaniel warned, his eyes burning slightly and he furiously blinked back the tears. Bile rose up Nathaniel’s throat as the feeling of dread curdled sourly in the pit of his stomach. Feeling a mixture of frustration and anger at himself for allowing this situation to happen flashed dangerously through his entire body.

“I can help you, you look like you need it” Brody promised taking another weary step forward. Nathaniel clenched his jaw and glared sharply at Brody.

“Empty out your pockets” Nathaniel gasped out almost as in pain and Brody blinked in surprised before complying. A wallet, keys and a phone was thrown onto the counter. Nathaniel glanced furiously at Eleanor and motioned towards the counter, she fumbled awkwardly and pulled out a handful of crumpled notes. Nathaniel swiped the wallet and took the cash out of it and grabbed the crumpled notes before stumbling out of the back door leaving Brody standing shell-shocked in his own kitchen.

Nathaniel walked against the current of the people, being shoved and pushed aside as people rushed to get to their destinations in time, he was just an inconvenience to the crowd, nothing noticeable. He kept his head down as he rushed his way through the crowd and made his way to the bus station. He rifled through his pockets and found the money he stashed in his pockets, he counted it out hoping he grabbed enough money for the bus fair. Flashing lights caught his attention and he froze in place, his heart hammering painfully in his chest until he saw that it was a rushing ambulance. Someone bumped into him, shaking him out of his stupor before he continued his way to the bus station. As Nathaniel reached the bus station, he took the steps two steps at a time and he walked up to the counter, making sure his stolen hoodie kept his face slightly hidden so that no one would notice the number 3 tattoo branded on his cheek and bought a bus ticket for the next available bus. He took a seat in the adjoining cafe shop, hiding behind a newspaper someone left on the table while he waited for his bus. There was a middle aged man behind the counter, glaring at him in an attempt to get him to buy something and an old man seated at the table across from him, his glasses fogged from his coffee. Nathaniel felt bone tired and sore, his eyes burning and begging to just close for five minutes to rest. Reluctantly he got to his feet and made his way to the counter, he mumbled his order of a black coffee and paid with the remaining of his change. While he waited for his coffee, his eyes strayed to the brownies and cupcakes and his stomach growled painfully. He took his coffee and made his way back to his seat, sipping his coffee and hoping it’ll fight off his exhaustion, The man behind the counter waddled over to the radio and turned it up.

“Up and coming Exy star, Nathaniel Wesninski, found dead” a voice announced from the radio, Nathaniel choked on his coffee and pressed his sleeve against his mouth. The old man glanced towards him unimpressed and Nathaniel felt his cheeks burn. There was a weird buzzing in his ears and a feeling of hysteria climbed up his chest, Nathaniel bolted up and rushed out of the cafe, when the cold air hit him hysteric laughter bubbled out of him uncontrollably. 

_Nathaniel Wesninski is dead._


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil Josten meets Dan Wilds and David Wymack.

Neil Josten started charging for sex two months after his eighteenth birthday. He had a job, working the night shift at some filling station where the hours dragged on and on. The money wasn't worth the mind numbing hours he wasted sitting in the station, surrounded by yesterdays news, the wide variety of chewing gum, cheap beer and the gurgling coffee machine that housed overprice, tasteless coffee. He could barely manage to feed himself out of his pay check, never mind save enough money to escape to England and hunt down his uncle.

He knew what his body was: an asset that could be rented out in the lonely hours of the night for an hour at a time, to damaged men who were denied the right to love boys when they were younger and to broken, lonely women who were out for one thing, revenge on their cheating husbands and what better way to get their revenge than spending their husbands well earned money to sleep with someone younger than their husbands, prettier even.

The idea came to him one night when Neil was wondering around, he spent the day watching news coverage, feverishly, of his own funeral. Nathaniel Wesninski tragically took his own life, unable to move on from his mother’s mysterious disappearance 8 years prior to his death. He watched the Ravens all wearing black, standing in eerily unison while wearing blank faces. Edger Allen University decided to hold a vigil for Nathaniel instead of attending the funeral, so that the students could pay their respects to him without missing out on school. Tetsuji Moriyama stood tall and ramrod straight beside Riko, a hand placed on his shoulder. To others it looked like a comfort for a grief stricken boy but Neil knew what it really was, a warning. News reporters plagued not only Edgar Allen but also Palmetto State, trailing Kevin Day, shouting questions about the death of his former teammate, about Nathaniel’s mental health state when he was still with the Raven’s, about when he was returning to the Raven’s and if he thought it was even possible for him to play again. Kevin stood awkwardly in front of the cameras, clutching his left hand, which was in a brace, as if to protect it and answered some questions mechanically until Andrew Minyard walked up to him and towed him away before flipping off the news anchors, his cackling laugh heard as he and Kevin walked away. They showed clips of him playing Exy with the Raven’s, commented on his statistics and what he could of accomplished as a athlete if he hadn’t tragically died. They showed snapshots of Nathaniel, Kevin and Riko as kids, which Neil knew the Moriyama's gave them, and did a segment about teenage depression and suicide, showing statistics of the apparent growing number of teenage suicides. The whole thing tormented Neil, left him feeling deranged and untethered, he wanted to run outside and scream at anyone and everyone who would listen, that he’s not dead, he’s alive and well and he’s right _here._ He pulled at his hair harshly and paced the room, the muted tv mocking him as flashes of his mother appeared on the tv, apparently they decided to rehash the disappearance of Mary Wesninski, because his serial killer Father couldn’t possibly be a suspect. Suddenly Neil felt as if the air in the room vanished, leaving him gasping and struggling to catch his breath. He tore out of the room and ran. He ran until the ache in his chest eased, until his legs burned and his feet ached from shoes too worn. As he slowed down, pressing a hand to his side as a stitch pulsed through him, he understood what that whole shit show was. This was a clear warning from the Moriyama’s, the world thought he was dead, so when he disappears like his mother no one will question it, the Moriyama's probably encouraged every news outlets to talk about his mother.

He wondered aimlessly around, his mind felt like static and everything around him felt slightly out of focus, leaving him feeling as if he’s on step closer to the edge, one step closer to falling. When his mind clumsily caught up to his body, he found himself clenching and unclenching the bottom of his hoodie, his throat tight with unshed tears and his stomach growling furiously at him. He ducked into the doorway of a closed down shop, old and dusty signs announcing to him of half off goods, and he fumbled for the cigarette carton in his pocket and lit one. The smoke drifted up, filling his lungs in the way his lungs begged the air to do so and he felt himself slowly realign with himself. With a shuddering sigh, he let his head fall back onto the door. As he relaxed, he because suddenly conscious of someone watching him and he looked around until he caught the eyes of a man across the street.

"Hey" the man called out to Neil as if they were old friends, Neil nodded in response and gave the man a once over, he was older than Neil, wore expensive clothes and an easy smile. As if given a cue, the man briskly made his way over to Neil until he stood directly in front of Neil, his obvious expensive cologne clogging up the limited air between them. Unsure what to do, Neil held out the carton and he took one. He made a show of patting all of his pockets before motioning to Neil for a light, Neil held out his lighter which was clenched in his sweaty palm. Instead of taking it, he motioned for Neil the light it up, dumbly Neil did and he leaned his face in. His eyelashes fluttering closed as the cigarette in his mouth lit, slowly they opened and locked onto Neil’s once again before he leaned back.

"How are you?" he asked after a drag and when Neil responded with fine, he leaned closer to Neil and Neil felt a smirk tug on his lips, he could easily attempt to rob this over friendly guy and have enough money to buy a decent meal for the first time in weeks, his stomach growled with approval, reminding Neil of the stale bread and cold soup he ate at the soup kitchen a few days ago, he has since been surviving on salty crackers.

"Are you waiting on anyone?" the man asked and when Neil shook his head, his smile widened as he reached into his front pocket and pulled out a wad of money, Neil fought of the urge to rip it out of his hands and just run. He was fast, statistically one of the fastest players in Exy, he could escape but his mind was screaming warnings at him, how it seems a bit too easy to rob this man, how he could be anyone ranging from one of his father's men to someone the master paid off to finish him or bring him back.

"I don't want anything unusual, just a bit of fun" he told Neil lowly, holding out the money to Neil, Neil stared back at him, confused, and he shook his head before walking away, ignoring the man's snappy retorts he called after him. He was halfway back to the hostel when he realized exactly what he meant. Instantly, he regretted not asking how much money he was willing to offer him.

The next day, he spent half the morning hunting down a local library or an internet cafe and when he found the library it took him less than a minute to find a suitable website to advertise his service. After checking out other ads and offers, he learned that he could charge more because of his age, although his price would have to go down once he turned twenty. He listed his price range, things he was willing to do, which surprisingly was a lot and things he was not willing to do, which was few. He uploaded the picture he took that morning of himself from a cheap flip-up phone he purchased. He didn't show his entire face, the picture started just beneath his nose and ended just above his knee, the anonymity of it was safe, people couldn't identify who he was and he got to show what he was offering. He didn't go shirtless, like all of the advertisers did, instead he wore a white t-shirt, that clung desperately to his body and tight fitting black skinny jean that he splurged nearly the last of his remaining money on. It wasn't enough but it'll do. He posted his ad and when he went up to pay the librarian for his time on the computer, he ignored the sharp scowl she gave him. Later than night the phone rang. Four times.

Neil was anxious when he walked up to the house of his first client, from what he could gather from the phone call, his client was polite yet shy which reassured Neil slightly. It was the reason why he chose him to be his first client, he needed someone who was as inexperienced in this as he was. As he walked up towards the given address his client texted him, his certainty wavered, he felt regret and panic bubble together in the pit of his stomach and for a brief moment Neil wondered if he was going to puke. The man opened the door ushered him in quickly and glanced back outside, seeing if his neighbors noticed Neil at his door, before closing the door quickly and leading Neil into the living room. He smiled sheepishly at Neil, his tired and wary eyes trailed down his body before he looked Neil in the eyes.

"Are you really eighteen?" he asked suddenly, his tired eyes seemed to brighten as he looked Neil over again, hungrily taking in Neil's slender body with his eyes as if it could fill in the void of his deprived life.

"Yes, is that a problem?" Neil replied quickly and the man smiled and shook his head. He motioned for Neil to sit onto the couch and Neil did. He allowed his eyes to scan the room, pictures of the man and a women, who Neil gathered to be his wife, plastered the walls and the mantle piece, other people popped up occasionally, old and worn from life but still smiling brightly at the man and his wife nonetheless. He allowed his eyes to wonder back over to the man who was leaning against the mantle piece. There wasn't anything spectacular about him, his brown hair was thinning, his green eyes were tired and lifeless, his entire body sagged with self hatred and guilt and he hid himself in an ugly green sweater and brown pants. As if feeling Neil’s eyes on him, he turned and watched him back.

"Do you ever get lonely? Like me?" the man asked slowly, looking down at his hand and twisting his wedding band off his finger before looking at Neil, who was slightly taken back by the question, he felt his face flush and it took him two tries to pry the word "No" out of his mouth.

He wasn't lonely like him. He enjoyed the loneliness, enjoyed being on his own and having free range on his own life for the first time in years but occasionally, he'll find himself turning slightly to the left to mutter something quietly in french, something he found funny or a snide remark he had to make, to Jean only to find that there is no one beside him. Occasionally he'll reach out for a warm body in his bed late at night only to be greeted with cold sheets. At those moments, he feels grief and loneliness hit him like a tidal wave, leaving him breathless and numb for the rest of the day. On those days Neil can barely drag himself out of bed. As if he knew what Neil was thinking, the man gave him a sympathetic nod.

The man didn't want Neil to undress him, he didn't want Neil to touch him either which Neil was fine with. He only wanted to blow Neil, so Neil let him. Neil leaned his head back against the couch and stared up at the ceiling, trying to clear his thoughts as he felt the man tug on his jeans, he tried to ignore the instant panic that shot through his entire body and push back the urge to run. As if sensing Neil's panicked thoughts, he grabbed Neil's hips and pressed him down against the couch. With a shaky breath, Neil allowed his mind to clear as the man’s cold hands got to work. The man ran his hands up and down Neil’s thighs, basking at the feel of Neil’s skin, sighing dreamily as he pressed his hands firmly into his muscles before making his way up and up until he stopped suddenly, Neil could hear him take in a few deep breaths as if steadying himself then his hands were on him again. He tugged Neil gently, taking his time and savoring his indulgence, until Neil was half hard. He pressed his warm mouth on Neil’s cock, swallowing and bobbing up and down until he gagged. After the first few times he glanced wearily at Neil, as if startled Neil started making noises that he thought would please him, sighing and moaning and whispering don’t stop. It all sounded so forced to Neil, which it was, but it put a blinding smile on the man’s face before he continued on. It seemed as if it went on for hours, and perhaps it did, until Neil felt a tightening in his gut and a surprised gasp escaped him as he came. The man swallowed him down before curling around Neil’s naked legs and he started sobbing.

They sat like that for a while, Neil feeling snot, tears and cum slid uncomfortably down his legs, awkwardly patted the man’s shoulder until he stood up and walked to the kitchen while Neil hastily cleaned himself and yanked his pants back up and buckled his belt before following him into the kitchen. He leaned against the door as he watched the man pour himself a glass off water, gargling it in his mouth and spitting it out into the sink before turning the tap back on to watch all the traces of Neil run down the sink. The man reached over to the cookie jar that perched on the window sill and pulled out a wad of cash. He turned to Neil, refusing to look at him as he handed him five 20 notes. Awkwardly Neil reached out and took the money, the man practically leaped back from him as if he was a rapid dog about to attack. Feeling a surge of anger course through him, Neil stomped over to the back door.

"You have my number" Neil snapped at him as he unlatched the backdoor and he felt a sharp push on his back as he made his way out the door.

As he listened to some cheesy band, droning about saying bye to a cheating lover, sitting in an almost empty bus, he waited for the assault of guilt, shame, disgust and when it didn't happen, he couldn't help but wonder if the Nest had really fucked him over so much that he now doesn't possess a moral compass.

For the next few weeks as he got more clientele, Neil learned the best way to gasp and moan, learned the right encouragements to say and the right praises to moan and he learned it was safer to meet in a shady motel instead of peoples homes. He didn’t have any regulars, no one ever called back but it didn’t matter, maybe they were afraid he would blackmail them, tell their familiars what they did the in loneliest hours at night.

He got a call on a blocked number one day, a low voice telling him the location, how much he would pay him before hanging up without letting Neil answer. Neil made his way to an expensive apartment complex, fighting the urge to turn around and leave, a tall man, with dark hair and eyes, stood at the revolving door and when he saw Neil, he motioned towards him and Neil followed after him into the complex. In the apartment, there was an older man sitting on a couch with his pants down at his ankles and two younger men sat on either side of him. The two younger men were of similar built of Neil, slender and short, one of them was draped over the older man, his hand buried in his salt and pepper hair while the other looking wildly at Neil. The man that brought Neil in walked into a different room and came back with a tripod and camera, with quick efficiency he set up the camera and cleared his throat until everyone’s attention was on him. The man behind the camera started directing everyone, barking out orders while he record, he told Neil to wrap himself around the older man and he complied. He told Neil to kiss him and he told one of the other younger men to kiss Neil’s neck and they complied.

“Hit him” the man behind the camera commanded after a few minutes of the three of them kissing and fumbling with each other, Neil pulled away and opened his mouth to say no when the older man roused on him and slapped him hard. Neil tumbled off him in surprise, his cheek sore and reddening on impact, fury flooded him, drowning him in the familiar anger that he inherited from his father and he leapt to his feet and stormed over to the man behind the camera. He stared at Neil with an amused smirk on his face.

“Give me my money” Neil growled out, spittle flying from his mouth in anger

“We’re not done yet, I have so many ideas for you” he replied, Neil leapt at him and the man stumbled back in surprise before he pushed Neil back. Neil fell to the floor and the older man jumped up and started kicking Neil, the man smirked and walked back to the camera and continued recording. He ordered the other two to join in and reluctantly they did, Neil curled up protecting his face as they continued kicking him. They didn’t stopped until Neil was bruised and tender, gasping in pain and swallowing back tears. The man threw money on top of Neil and he watched with a satisfied smile as Neil scrambled around on the floor for his money. There was a card in along with the money, he flipped it around and saw it was a business card for a strip joint, he glanced up at the other men and the one with the wild eyes glanced at the card and gave a slight tilt of his chin, Neil placed the card into his pocket along with the money. With a flush of embarrassment, he limped out of the room, pressing a hand to his tender ribs. When he was back in his cheap, moldy apartment he pulled out the card again, running his finger lightly over the address.

The following day, Neil made his way to the strip joint, the card cutting sharply into his sweaty palm as he ducked into the building. The club was in the midst of opening, low music pulsed throughout the room and a few stragglers sat at the bar, chatting and laughing with each other. They looked up when Neil entered and one of them stepped forward wearing an awkward smile, Neil recognized him instantly as the one who gave him the card.

“Hey! Glad you came” he greeted loudly, Neil fought back the urge to punch him as his ribs pulsed with pain. As if sensing Neil’s fury, he chuckled awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck. He motioned for Neil to follow him, reluctantly and wearily Neil followed.

“Listen...sorry about last night” he said awkwardly, leading Neil to a back office, glancing back at Neil before quickly looking away. Neil gave him a once over, taking in his haggard look and shallow complexion. Neil followed him into the office, he motioned for Neil to sit down in the singular desk chair.

“With men like that your better off just going with it” he continued on, Neil let out a harsh bark of a laugh and a red blush colored his cheeks.

“You just seemed way over you head last night - I mean this place may not seem as much but they protect they own, you know what I mean?” he stammered out as the door opened behind him, a plump, middle aged women with bottled blonde hair and bright red lipstick stepped into the room. Her icy blue eyes looked between Neil and the guy and her eyes narrowed slightly.

“Picking up strays again Alex?” she asked, her voice husky and Alex flushed slightly before rushing out an explanation. She watched Neil as she listened, her face stony and betraying none of her thoughts. When Alex stumbled to an end, her eyes flickered towards him and she nodded at him before he stood up and left the room. Once he left, she returned her unnerving stare flickered back at him and she made a noncommittal sound.

“So, Neil was it? Should I inform my clients that if they fuck you they’ll be committing necrophilia?” she inquired and Neil flinched back, his heart quickening painfully in his chest. Her face softened slightly and she perched herself on the edge of the table.

“Listen, you’re not the only person here who is hiding” she reassured him lowly, resting a surprisingly warm hand on his before sighing.

“We’ll need papers, I know a guy and he’s really good but it’ll be expensive, really expensive” she murmured almost to herself, seeming almost lost in thought before nodding to herself. Neil, feeling oddly grateful, nodded along with her and she flashed him a smile. She patted his hand once before standing up and grabbing a notepad and pen that laid on the table beside him. She looked up at Neil expectantly and Neil began telling her about his profile, what he was charging and what he was willing to do and not to do.

“You were charging too low” she tutted as she jolted everything down. She created a contract, upping his prices to what she deemed worthy, that he could charge double to be a Nathaniel Wesninski look-a-like and that he could work extra hours, manning the bar for extra money. She took percentages from what he makes, 10% for security and another 30% for the rental of a room upstairs for his clients. When it was written up, she told him to return the next day before he signed it.

When he returned the next day, Cecelia, he learned that was her name, led him back into the back office. A box of hair dye sat on the table and she started dyeing Neil’s hair a dark brown color, covering up his auburn hair. When she was done, she handing him papers, he flipped through the papers and handed her the money he managed to squirrel away from his time working alone. She informed him that he could move into the room that he’s renting, apparently a lot of her other workers do so. The first few days were slow, she gave him a few night shifts manning the bar while he wanted for his phone to ring or for people in the club to inquire about him. His first new client in the bar was someone who wanted a Nathaniel Wesninski look-alike, the man walked in sporting the new Nathaniel Wesninski jersey, the one that Edger Allen brought out after his death, his name written in gold. He stared at Neil in wonderment when he walked into the room, his finger pressing into the tattoo on Neil’s check before he moved them into his mouth. He wanted to fuck Neil while Neil wore the jersey, he told him and when he came he gasped out Nathaniel’s name. Afterwards, Neil laid in bed unable to move, the man’s desire froze him, his heated touch left trails of ice in their wake and it left him shivering. After what felt like hours, his door opened and Cecelia walked in, she sat on the bed, it dipped under her weight and she placed a comforting hand on his back, rubbing soothing circles on his back. Neil closed his eyes and imagined that the warm, comforting hand was his mother’s and a choked off sob escaped him.

“Hennessey is coming for a visit” Tessa told him a few weeks later, they were working in comfortable silence, Neil wiping down glasses for the bar as Tessa mopped the sticky floor, she was one of the strippers who also lived in the building along side Neil and a handful of other people. The ones who live in the building are usually the ones tasked with cleaning up after the night before, spending the morning, normally nursing a hangover or a migraine from the pounding music blasting the night before, scrubbing up suspicious sticky marks on the floors near the stage, wiping down the stage of glitter and sweat and on the occasion, ripped clothes. Neil hummed nonchalantly, not really paying attention to the conversation as she yammered on about how fun the weekend will be now that Hennessy was coming for a visit.

Later that night as Neil stood behind the bar, making drinks and keeping a eye on the drinks the dancers ordered, in case someone tried to slip anything into their expectant drinks. Sultry music played, a dancer swaying in time with the music, her hand trailing down her body and the crowd howled wildly while throwing money at the stage.

A tall women, taller than Neil, with dark brown short hair and matching bright eyes, her caramel skin sheened with sweat and a bright, friendly smile. She looked strangely familiar, her eyes trailed after Neil as he picked up empty glasses and placing them into the dishwasher.

“Nathaniel” a voice hissed and Neil’s head jerked up, swinging around until his eyes locked with the women and her smile widened. His heart dropped to the pit of his stomach, one of the glasses he was holding tumbled out of his hand, smashing on the floor as he realized who the women was, Dan Wilds, captain of the Foxes. He stood frozen in place, Dan Wilds watched him briefly taking in his shell shocked form before she slinked off into the crowd again. Feeling a flush crawl it way onto his cheeks, Neil bend down and started picking up the shattered glass, ignoring the splintering glass that bit into the tips of his fingers. The rest of the night past in a blur, his mind numb and his body on autopilot. At the end of the night, Cecelia placed a firm hand on his shoulder and lead him into the back office where Dan Wilds and David Wymack stood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry for not updating sooner but Ireland got out of the lockdown again so I've been swamped with work for the past 2 weeks. Hopefully I'll be able to update later during the week. Comments are appreciated :)


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil contemplates joining the Foxes.

Cecelia’s uncomfortably warm hand slowly drifted down from his shoulders to the small of his back, rubbing what was intended to be comforting circles but left Neil feeling oddly nauseous. David Wymack nodded at the pair of them in greeting, a paper bag held loosely in one of his hands while holding a coffee tray in the other. David Wymack was a powerhouse of a man, tall and dangerously strong with tribal tattoos running along his arms and Neil felt strangely breathless and terrified at the thought of being left alone in a room with him.

“Hungry?” Wymack grunted out, holding up the paper bag and waving it slightly. Neil opened his mouth to decline but his growling stomach answered first. Cecelia used this moment to slip out of the room as Wymack started unpacking the bag, taking out warm sandwich rolls and divided up the coffee. Dan, who looked unsteady on her feet, probably from the continuous fruity cocktails her and some of the other dancers drank throughout the night, she swayed over to a chair and plopped down onto it before slipping off her high heels with a heavy sigh. Wymack threw her sandwich at her, she caught it and peeled back the wrapper and took a bit from the sandwich before she gave a loud groan as she took a sip from her coffee. Wymack fell into the chair beside her with a huff and took a large gulp of his own coffee before looking at Neil and motioning to the chair opposite from him. Neil awkwardly fell into the chair and fumbled for the sandwich and coffee left for him. As they ate in almost comforting silence, Neil watched the pair from the corner of his eye using this opportunity to examine them.

When Dan Wilds bulldozed her way onto the Exy scene, loud and demanding, fighting for her right to play on a college league team, clawing out a space for herself and demanding that people took her as serious as any other male in the league, there was murmurs about how similar she was to Kayleigh Day. She was fiercely tough and demandingly stubborn and it didn’t take her long to whip the Foxes into a cohesive team, which when Wymack announced Dan as the new captain of the Foxes no one was surprised. She begrudgingly earned the respect from many people in the Exy world, including Kevin Day. When more people compared Dan to Kayleigh Day, something switched in Kevin, he watched Dan’s progress affixed and proud. Like many things in the Nest, Kevin kept his fixation of Dan hidden from Riko. After the situation with Andrew Minyard, Riko was furious with Kevin for allowing someone like Andrew Minyard to humiliate them and the Ravens, he reminded Kevin in his twisted way that his loyalties were to remain with the Ravens and the Ravens alone and that he was a foolish idiot for allowing himself to get caught up with Andrew Minyard. It wasn’t surprising when Riko found out about Kevin’s little crush on Dan Wilds that he furiously turned on Kevin, on court he was unrelentless, tripping him up roughly and harshly checking him against the plexiglass. Off court, Riko was a nightmare towards Kevin.

But watching Dan now, Neil couldn’t help but see how much like Wymack she truly was, how much of Wymack’s mannerisms she adopted from him, from the stubborn jut of her jaw when she was obviously biting her tongue instead of saying what was on her mind, from the way she held herself, strong and tall and making her presence known even in the small room. Briefly he wondered about Kevin and if like Dan, he too adopted some of his father’s mannerisms. Did he watch his father and compare the similarities between himself and Wymack, did he note the differences and wonder if their separation caused those differences between them. As if feeling Neil’s gaze, Dan turned to face him and winked at him, Neil quickly glanced away, feeling a slight flush creep its way up his neck. When he looked at Wymack, he couldn’t help but see Kevin, pieces here and there that Neil was so used to seeing on Kevin that it left him feeling strangely disorientated.

“I don’t know what she told you, but for the two of you it’ll cost more” Neil said when each of them finished their meal, he shrugged off his jacket and threw it onto the back of the chair he was sitting in. They shared a bewildered look before looking back at Neil. A surprised furrow appeared between Wymack’s eyebrows. A familiar furrow that appeared between Kevin’s own eyebrows.

“Nathaniel-” Dan started jumping to her feet before swaying slightly on her feet, she grabbed onto the back of chair to steady herself. Once she steadied herself, she hurried over to him reaching to grab a hold of him. Neil stepped out of her reach and looked blankly at the wall behind her.

“And obviously more for a Nathaniel look-a-like” he added in a monotone voice ignoring Dan’s indignant choked noise that stuck in the back of her throat.

“Neil!” Wymack snapped and Neil froze like a deer caught in headlights, his eyes wide with surprise and a slight flicker of fear flashed through him, brief flashes of his father’s fury flickered quickly through his mind and he clutched his hand pathetically at the bottom of his shirt.

“Did Kevin tell you about me?” Neil demanded, a flicker of familiar fury ignited in the pit of his stomach pushing through his fear and anxiety. He already knew the answer, it sat heavy on the tip of his tongue, Kevin believed him to be dead and there was only one person who knew Neil’s true identity around here. He couldn’t help but feel the sour feeling of betrayal curdle in his stomach at the thought of Cecelia running to Dan to tell her about him, especially after everything she advised him to do and a displeased shiver ran down his spine.

“When Cecelia told me about you, I thought she was mistaken. After all you were... Anyways seeing you tonight it kinda felt like a pipe dream you know? We were just about to give up and go back but then we found you!” Dan explained in faux cheer that rang false in his ears.

“What Dan’s trying to say, is that we could use someone like you on the team” Wymack added but it all sounded like white noise to Neil.

He knew all about David Wymack, he was foolishly devoted to giving second chances to delinquents, junkies and anyone else society has given up on, he would offer them a contract and a chance to make something of themselves as long as they could hold themselves on court and knew how to hold a racquet and run with falling over themselves. Whispers and rumors made their way around the rumor mill, that this was all a publicity stunt on Wymack’s part, that he was an idiot to waste his time and energy on people who don’t want to be saved or helped. Neil couldn’t help but agree with latter of the options, after all Wymack was proving it by standing here, offering the same deal to someone like Neil as if Neil fall into the same category as the foxes.

Neil may have his father’s face, his cold lifeless eyes, his tousled auburn hair, his wicked smirk and his sharp features but he has his mother's obsessive need of defiance, her vengeful heart, her quick silver tongue and her bitter soul. Two villains didn't make a hero or a good guy, they made a monster, a twisted monster with venom in his veins, poison in his heart and demons in his head.

Perhaps that's why Riko was so desperate to break him, to make him an obedient pet with a tight lease wrapped around his neck, perhaps he was afraid of the monster that slept inside Nathaniel, waiting to be prodded awake and wreck havoc in his wake and perhaps Nathaniel was afraid of this monster too, perhaps he didn't want to feel the glee in running a sharp knife across someone body, perhaps he didn't want the laughter to spill out of his mouth so freely as he asks them to beg for their lives in quick gasps and screams. He allowed Riko to tear him apart and he allowed Jean to stitch him back up again, to make him a new version of himself, one that allowed anxiety to swallow him whole whenever he saw Riko's wicked smile, one that said "yes master" and "I will, master" instead of retorting back and one that allowed himself to be marked as property. The thought of putting himself through that once again left a sour taste in his mouth and made his stomach lurch painfully. Despite the sickening sweet taste of hope hanging in the air, Neil knew it would be suicidal even to consider this, he would be dead before he even managed to step foot in Palmetto. There was no future for him, not here and certainly not Palmetto, after all dead boys aren’t entitled to futures.

He didn't want Wymack's second, third, fourth chances, he didn't want to be the Foxes answer, he didn't want to face Kevin Day again while his screams and snapped bones haunted his nightmares. Like Dan said, he was a pipe dream to them and he should stay that way. He wanted to show Wymack how monstrous he was, how he doesn't deserve second chances, not while he's living on borrowed time. He is a villain in Kevin Day's story and if Wymack had any fatherly instinct left in him, he would tear up Neil's contract and see him for what he really is, he would see past this facade Neil didn't know he had until now.

“I held Kevin down while Riko broke his hand" Neil announced, a silence elapsed them, the silence soothing him as Dan and Wymack tried to comprehend what exactly Neil told them, how he was an active member in the infamous breaking of Kevin Day’s wrist.

“What happened in the past, stays in the past” Wymack said after clearing his throat unnecessarily loud in the awkwardly quiet room. He whipped out the contract and handed it to Neil, Neil took it from him with shaky hands and glanced down at it. With a heavy heart, Neil crumpled up the contract and threw it along side the rubbish. He stood up abruptly, the chair screeching loudly in the quiet room, as he walked out of the room he could feel Wymack’s heavy gaze burning into his back.

Working in this industry, people tend to turn a blind eye, especially when that business doesn’t concern them. When Alex disappears for a few days and returns high as a kite, with wild eyes, darkening bruises and on the rare occasion, a limp or sprain, no one voices their concern or even comments about it. Apparently the men Alex was with the night Neil met him weren’t the worse. No one tries to convince Lisa to leave her obviously abusive husband, when she arrives once again with tear a stained face and her bags packed, shrieking that that was the last straw and this time she would actually leave him until he shows up the next day and leaves with her once again. No one tried to encourage Tessa to return to her beauty course, not even when she talks about how in the future she’s going to open her own beauticians. No one mentions the fact that Cecelia is one of Neil’s regulars or even when Neil ducks out of the building when he spots someone that looks suspiciously like someone working for the Moriyama’s or his father, but apparently this they decide to talk about. After Wymack and Dan left without Neil or Neil’s signed contract, they openly started discussing it, how if it was their decision they would of taken it leaving Neil feeling furiously foolish and idiotic. Some talked about what they would do in Neil’s shoes, others joked about wanting to go to college just for the parties while majority of them talked with a wistful look crossed their faces.

Using the excuse to get away from their inquiring and annoying questions, Neil started meeting up with some clients in motels once again. A few of them his regulars. He briskly made his way to the nearest motel to the strip club, the biting cold Spring air left his breath coming out in a continuous white fog and his finger joints ached painfully from the cold. When he reached the motel, slightly shivering, he took the metallic steps two at a time until he reached the room the message told him to go. He knocked twice in quick succession until the door opened and a furious glare greeted him.

“You’re late” she growled out lowly, the sound of a running shower can be heard in the room behind her. When he tried to enter the room, she blocked his way. He didn’t know her name, it wasn’t something she divulged to him but she was older than him and she didn’t particularly like him or this situation much. She and her girlfriend, who was significantly younger than her, were going through a rough patch, to spice things up again they decided to hire Neil. From what Neil gathered, it was suppose to be an once off but Kara, her girlfriend, made another appointment and another one until it became weekly. As the weeks went by, she appeared more angry, some times she refused to even look at him and on the rare occasion when she did, she glared at him in disgust. During those times he wanted to remind her that he’s only here because she’s paying him, not because he wants to be here. He wanted to remind her that there was other means to fix their relationship then hiring a barely legal prostitute and maybe if she put half as much of her energy into finding out what went wrong in their relationship and tried to fix it instead of trying to shoulder the blame of their dissolving relationship onto Neil.

“This is the last time, I don’t care what sort of cock and bull story you have to make up to get her to let you go but I will continue to pay you, weekly, if you just tell her no” she pleaded sounding desperate, tying back her dark hair before returning a cold glare. Neil jerked his head once and she stepped out of his way. He made his way to the bathroom, kicking his shoes off behind him and stepped into the bathroom. Kara peeked out from behind the shower door and beamed at him, her blonde hair darkened from the water and her eyes considerably lighting up at the sight of him.

“The water is nice and warm” she hummed before ducking under the water, Neil peeled off his clothes conscious of her eyes tracing over his body before he joined her in the shower. She pressed a light and fleeting kiss to his lips, sighing against his lips before allowing her hand to trail up and down his back.

“I missed you” she murmured and Neil pretended he didn’t hear her over the spray of the water. She pressed up against him, throwing her arms around his neck before smashing her lips against his harshly. Neil matched her intensity, nibbling on her bottom lip slightly which he knew left her weak and sighing before deepening the kiss. As the kiss deepened, she raked her fingernails down his torso, digging her sharp nails into old, jagged scars causing him to hiss sharply and grab her hand roughly before pushing her away. She almost slipped before she steadied herself, she threw an injured glance his way and reached for him once again, he arched away from her touch before stepping out of the shower. Her confused eyes followed his retreating form as he left the bathroom. He stepped into the room and fell onto the bed. The other girl glanced at him from where she sat on one of the chairs, flicking through a gossip magazine with little interest and raised an inquiring eyebrow at him which he promptly ignored. The shower cut off and Kara exited the bathroom, wrapped up in a towel and holding Neil’s discarded clothes that she dropped at the foot of the bed. She stood at the end of the bed and watched him for a moment before throwing a withering glance over her shoulder, the girl answered with her own withering glare before storming out of the motel room, slamming the door closed behind her. Kara crossed her arms and huffed angrily before turning her attention back to Neil.

“I’m sorry baby” she said in a sickening sweet voice that left a cold, burning feeling of dread to course through him. She dropped the towel wrapped around her body and climbed onto of him, her hand reaching between Neil’s legs and he grabbed her hand before she could manage and flipped them over so he was on top. He didn’t want to feel her touch, not when her touch and scrapes left phantom pains in its wake and ignited his bitterly hot anger that threatened to spill over and cause damage. She wasn’t the first client who grew obsessed with his marred skin, some looked on with pity while others pressed soft lips against them as if gentle touches will erase them. 

She grinned at him and clutched onto his shoulders, wrapp ing her wet legs around his waist and placed a  fleeting  kiss on his mouth.  When Neil didn’t do anything, she smirked up at him as if he was being difficult on purpose and she reached down until her hand gripped tightly on his bum before pulling him towards her. 

“Tick tock” she said mockingly before gripping his bum again and pulled him against her again causing Neil to rock against her and she sighed slightly. Neil huffed at her impatience before climbing off her which elicited an impatient groan as she fell back onto her back. Neil searched in his pockets for a condom, when he found it she reached for him again and he side stepped out of her reach. He slipped the condom on with practiced ease and climbed back onto the bed, she reached for him again before pulling him in for a heated kiss. He eased into her slowly causing her head to throw back with a low moan and her warm heat to clench around him, trying to adjust to him. With an encouraging rock of her hips, Neil inched out and thrusted back in before picking up the familiar rhythm. As she wrapped her arms around him, digging her nails into the small of his back, sighing and moaning against his neck, Neil felt like he was drowning. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want this life and he didn’t know how to get out of this. He craved for more, he wanted to live his life so much that it left his chest aching and his head spinning. She came with a moan and he rolled off her, pushing her needy hands when she tried to reach for him to finish him off and gave her a firm no which she surprisingly respected. As he stared up at the ceiling, her arms curled around his waist and her face pressed up against his neck, the sudden feeling of this is not enough surged through him, leaving a bitter taste of regret in the back of his throat. He rolled out of the bed, ignoring her trying to claw and grab him back into the bed and reached for his clothes.

“She’s making you leave isn’t she? I know she is, she’s never happy until I’m miserable” she spat out, sounding oddly tearful, Neil refused to turn back to check on her as he quickly slipped back on his clothes.

“No” Neil replied coldly after a pregnant pause, he could hear shuffling behind him and felt arms circle around his waist, she clung to him with a surprisingly strong hold and placed her face into the crook of his neck.

“So why? Why does this feel like the last time?” she questioned, her tone a bit on the desperate side which irritated Neil. She turned her head until her lips ghosted his neck. With a quiet huff, Neil grabbed onto her arms and peeled them off of him, her surprised yelp caught him off guard, making him glance behind him. She laid back on her arms and pouted her lips out before grinning coyly at him. 

“Because I’m going away, to college” he answered, the lie tasting more truthful than most of the things he’s said lately. A disquieted warm feeling of hope surged through his chest leaving him feeling disorientated and breathless, he rubbed harshly at his chest as if he’s rubbing away the strange feeling in his chest. A slight nudge at his back snapped him out of it and he glanced behind him once again.

“Yeah? Then maybe I could visit you some time” she said once she realized that Neil’s attention is back on her. With a loud sigh, Neil turned away from her once again and pretended he didn’t hear her. The door banged open causing them both to flinch at the sudden loud noise, the other girl stormed in wearing her usual cold glare, her noticeable red rimmed eyes lessened the effect her glare usually held. She thrusted her hand out to him, holding an envelope with his money in it and Neil took the envelope without checking the amount before leaving the room, ignoring Kara’s surprised shout that followed him.

He felt exhausted when he arrived back to his room, stifling a yawn behind his hand he grabbed the his cigarettes and heaved himself up onto the windowsill. He cracked open the window and lit a cigarette, he closed his eyes and inhaled the smoke that drifted up from the cigarette before pulling a drag from it. Wearily, he leaned his head against the cool window and closed his eyes briefly. He jolted awake when the ashes toppled from the cigarette and landed on his wrist burning him slightly, with a low hiss he brushed the ashes off his wrist and threw the remaining cigarette out of the window. With a light knock, Cecelia entered Neil’s room and in tow a bag in her hand, she glanced around the room before her eyes landed on Neil. He gave the bag a fleeting look, wondering briefly what fantasy she wanted to role play tonight. She had her usual ones, ones where Neil was a cold and disinterest duke, a fiercely loyal and protective knight or a bratty prince. She sat on the bed, looking uncharacteristically chastised before nudging the bag towards Neil. With a sigh, Neil uncurled himself from the windowsill and pulled the bag towards himself, he reached into the bag expecting some ridiculous costume but instead there was an orange hoodie. He shook it out, the atrocious orange color almost made him blanch before he caught sight of the white lettering and with shaky fingers he traced the letters lightly, the hoodie feeling surprisingly soft as his fingers hooked into the sleeve.

“What’s this?” Neil asked, his voice coming out slightly hoarse before looking at Cecelia. Cecelia was wearing a soft, almost nurturing look on her face which turned his stomach slightly, leaving him uneasy and even more weary.

“This could be your future” she answered with a surprisingly soft tone and Neil sighed loudly before dropping the hoodie. Neil prepared for the anger to consume him once again, fierce and all consuming but instead he just grew more exhausted. He grew suddenly exhausted, tired from everyone trying to tell him how to live his life. They didn’t understand what truly was at stake here, he wasn’t throwing away his future, he was ensuring that he lived long enough to have a future. The sudden need to just crawl into his bed and never leave the safety of it for a while overcame him with a fierce voracity. As if sensing how tired Neil suddenly became, Cecelia suddenly stood up and crossed over to him, running a hand through his hair once before placing something on the nightstand. When his door clicked shut, Neil reached for whatever she left on his nightstand and found David Wymack’s number written in block letters on a piece of paper.

W hen Neil found Tessa the next morning, she was crouched and making ridiculous, encouraging noises to something hidden in the slight shadow. Feeling uncharacteristically exhausted, Neil leaned against the wall and watched her with slight amusement as she tried to coax the stray cat that she brings leftovers to every day before their morning run. 

“Guess Peter doesn’t want to come out” she murmured quietly, so quietly Neil almost missed it, with a huff she unclipped the top of the lunch box filled with left overs and placed the lunch box gently in front of the cat, trying not to scare it away.

“Peter?” Neil questioned, his amusement making his tone light and airy and she threw him a smile over her shoulder.

“Yeah, I decided to name him Peter, Peter Pan to be exact” she answered and a surprised huff of a laugh escaped him. Tessa stood up straight and walked over to him, taking in his exhausted state as she did and she leaned up against the wall beside him. They watched Peter slowly edge his to the lunch box, sniffing it wearily before he started eating from it. His black coat was matted and he appeared on the side of too skinny. 

“Poor thing” Tessa sighed before looking away, blinking rapidly and Neil looked away from her, giving her the chance to compose herself. After a few calming breaths, she looked back at Neil and gave him a watery smile before tying up her red hair. Tessa’s stage name was the Emerald Erin, she’s supposedly Irish and when she’s on stage her outfit is usually green. Tessa was really originally from Boston, she ran away from home a few years back and used to live with her aunt until she got to the age of 18, then she found herself working with Cecelia. Her fake Irish accent was ridiculously bad and whenever she caught Neil laughing at it, she would punch his shoulder surprisingly hard. From what Neil gathered, she had no tie to Ireland at all but they decided to play into stereotypes because of her red hair, pale skin and green eyes.

“Ready?” Neil asked and with an answering nod from her, they began their warm ups and stretches. Tessa placed one headphone bud into one of her ears and with a nod, they started going their usual route. They started with a light jog, keeping in step with each other before picking up speed. Usually the rhythmic pounding of his feet slapping against the pavement would clear his mind of anything and everything but instead it felt slightly too reminiscent of Exy, instead of clearing his mind it left his mind spinning and the lines between need and want blurred together. He craved for the old stability of his life back, missed the simplicity of his old life that was full of Exy and classes and homework.

When they stopped for a rest, Neil half expected Tessa to give her unwanted insight about the college situation or even about what’s on his mind but instead she glanced around, obviously looking for something. She made a triumphant noise before walking over to a small, barely noticeable second hand shop and Neil followed her. The inside was crowded and cluttered, it smelled slightly stale and dusty and Neil had to stifle a cough that tickled the back of is throat from the dust. Tessa weaved her way through the store, her eyes flicking over the room before falling on a table full of trinkets. Neil walked sluggishly behind her, taking the time to allow his eyes to wonder over the leftovers of people’s lives, old DVD players, retro CD players, out of date clothes and towers upon towers of books ranging from paperbacks with cracked spines, to hardbacks without dust jackets. Neil glanced back at Tessa, she was examining a jewelry box with keen interest before turning his attention back onto the books and glanced over the titles. _A Tragedy Waiting to Happen (how a chaotic missing persons case created a prolific serial killer)_ snagged Neil’s attention, Neil jolted slightly almost as if it electrified him, a spike of anxiety shot through him like a thunderbolt and numbly, he grabbed it. His father’s face stared out at him, leaving him shell shocked and breathless. Neil glanced around, feeling his face flush warmly before glancing back at the book. His father’s cold smile was almost mockingly, he briefly remembered some lousy journalist trying to get Neil’s “truth” about the situation a few years back and Kengo paid him to leave Neil alone and keep his name out of it, after all they couldn’t have a future investment’s reputation ruined.

“Neil” Tessa said softly from his left, causing him to jump slightly and turn around sharply. She flashed him a small apologetic smile before holding up the jewelry box she was looking at.

“I’m going to buy this and we can go” she told him and Neil gave her an awkward jerky nod, she gave him a weird look and for a brief moment it seemed as if she was considering questioning him before shaking her head slightly. Neil watched her walked up to the counter before turning swiftly around again and with a quick glance around the store to make sure no one was watching him, he swiftly slipped the book under his baggy sweatshirt and briskly walked out the shop. He heard Tessa hurrying behind him, the paper bag banging off everything until she caught up to him.

“A lots been on your mind lately” Tessa stated after a few minutes of walking quietly together and she glanced at him from the corner of her eye. Neil made a noncommittal noise.

“I think-” she started and it ignited Neil’s fierce fury to boil over.

“I’m sick and tired of everyone trying to tell me what to do with my life” Neil growled as he rounded on her, she flinched back from him and Neil’s sudden temper tantrum quickly dissipated as quickly as it flared ugly. Neil ran a frustrated hand through his hair before taking in a calming, slow breath. He mumbled a quiet apology which she chose to ignore.

“You should do whatever makes you happy Neil, forget about everyone else” she told Neil with a fierce verocity that left him speechless. Her eyes flashed down until they landed to the poorly concealed book under his sweatshirt.

“You shouldn’t let ghosts dictate your life” she added softly, her hand resting on top of the book and she patted it with a weary sigh. They stood staring at each other for a few moments before Tessa resumed walking and Neil stumbled after her.

Nathan Wesninski’s face mocked him from the glossy cover of the book, the book was complete bullshit, not that Neil was surprised. It was a sleazy man’s pathetic excuse to make a quick buck while victimizing Nathan and Neil couldn’t help but wonder if the author was on his father’s payroll. His anger grew as more inconsistency popped up and it continued to boil and bubble in his gut as he read on, with a deep and burning hatred he grabbed the book and tore pages out until there was nothing left but the spine of the book. He reached for he bin and threw the discarded pages into it, he whirled around restlessly until his eyes landed on his lighter and in a flurry, he reached for it and grabbed the spine of the book. He held it over the bin, ignited the lighter and set it onto the corner of the book. Transfixed he watched the flame crawled up the glossy cover, engulfing his father’s face and climbed up the cover. When the flame burned his fingers, he dropped it into the bin and watched the pages go up as well. Suddenly, the fire alarm wailed loud and deafening, snapping Neil out of his trance, he rushed over to the window and flung it open before grabbing a shirt and waving it by the fire alarm until it stopped wailing. He rushed over to his en suite bathroom and filled a glass of water before dousing the fire with it. Regardless of the ritualistic style of burning of the book, he knew Nathan would still haunt him, everywhere he turned echoes of his father appeared, daunting and terrifying as ever.

Feeling suddenly bone tired and weary, Neil sat on the edge on his bed and took in some deep breaths until his heart calmed down. Tessa’s voice echoed almost mockingly in his head and his eyes snagged on the piece of paper left on his nightstand. Fueled by the left overs of his adrenaline, he grabbed his phone and typed the number in and pressed call before he lost his nerve.

“Hello?” Wymack’s gruff of a voice asked, he could hear the familiar sound of an Exy ball hitting off the plexiglass, clattering of Exy sticks clashing off one another and the scuffle of multiple shoes on the court floor in the background.

“It’s Neil” Neil answered awkwardly, he heard Wymack’s surprised intake before the background noise of Exy drowned out immediately as Wymack shuffled to a different room, the squeaking chair as he settled into it sounding in the background.

“How can I help you Neil?” Wymack asked sincerely and almost softly, suddenly Neil got the sense that he would offer Neil help even if Neil didn’t join the Foxes and it left his throat feeling oddly tight. Neil cleared his throat to try and get rid of it before wetting his lips, wondering how to approach this.

“Can I really have this?” Neil fumbled out, feeling his face warm up instantly with embarrassment and he almost hung up then and there.

“If you want it, you can” Wymack answered and Neil felt a fleeting, hopeful smile etch its way onto his face and for the first time, Neil didn’t want to claw it off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey sorry for the long wait, I broke two of my fingers two weeks ago so typing has been very frustrating, I had majority of it done and you can properly tell where I stopped and where I picked up lol. Anyways, I'll try to update soon enough :)

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are appreciated :)


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